One Moon, Four Memories
by Drakochannojutsu
Summary: While still imprisoned by Toyotomi, Kojuurou recounts memories of Masamune, reminded by the moon's light. He just can't believe that Date could be dead...


It would be so easy to take up that blade, even broken and scarred as it was… Katakura Kojuurou sat, unmoving, as he had every time Takenaka had come to taunt him with his tale of Masamune's death on the battlefield. There was no way Date Masamune would fall so easily. It never made hearing those words any easier.

Kojuurou's hands tightened into fists around the fabric of his hakama. The moonlight that glinted off the blade was brighter than it ought to be. Kojuurou cast a glance up through the small window in the cell, at the crescent moon casting its cool glow over the Toyotomi base. Somewhere, surely, Masamune was gazing on that same moon.

Was it truly only last spring that they'd been in the gardens at Oshuu, admiring the sakura together? It seemed eons ago already.

"Masamune-sama, perhaps you should slow down," Kojuurou scolded, pouring another cup of sake nonetheless.

"Aw, come on Kojuurou, a couple more won't hurt anything."

"Just don't do anything unseemly, Masamune-sama. I'll have to answer for it later if you do something regrettable," Kojuurou said calmly, but smiling despite himself. "You've already had too much."

"You should loosen up and have a couple yourself, Kojuurou! Then it'll really be a cool party!"

"I have had some, Masamune-sama. Just… not as much as you." He swirled the sake bottle. There was probably only one cup left, and if he drank it, then it would stop Date from drinking it, which was probably for the best… Kojuurou glanced at the two other empty sake bottles on the tatami. "But since you insist, I'll have another." He poured the rest of it into his own cup, which had been sitting empty for a while.

Both of them glanced up as a breeze caused the trees to rustle, pink petals fluttering through the air, almost like snow. But it wasn't the trees Kojuurou was admiring, he realized, as his gaze rested on Date's face. This was the face he loved the most, that slight smile that softened the lines of stress and worry and that fighting spirit of his. Masamune turned, the breeze finally reaching them at the edge of the house, and ruffled his shaggy brown strands, his expression changing as he realized that Kojuurou was staring at him.

"Kojuurou?"

"Ah… I'm sorry, Masamune-sama." He turned back towards the trees full of pink blossoms. Perhaps he had a bit too much sake himself, to not realize that he'd been staring so blatantly.

"Kojuurou, come here."

When he turned back towards Masamune, he was smirking again. He should know better than to expect any different, he told himself, and scooted across the tatami to sit closer to Date. As soon as he was close enough, Date shifted his position from leaning against the sliding door to leaning against Kojuurou's chest. He fit so perfectly there just beneath his chin when he lay, half sprawled across the tatami. Kojuurou always scolded him on his posture… except for times like this. Even when he himself was sitting in perfect seiza, and the leader of their whole clan was lounging carelessly against him.

"Don't be so stiff, Kojuurou," Date drawled, and took one of Kojuurou's hands, turning it upward in his lap, tracing small circles into his palm. "It's not like we're on some military campaign or something."

There wasn't much he could reply to that with. It was true, of course. They were at leisure, the states seemed to be content to spend the season at peace, so far, and there was no need to be at arms… But Kojuurou had always taken upon himself to protect Date Masamune, to watch his back, to be the mind behind the military marvel. Truly relaxing was a rare occurrence for the Right Eye of the Dragon… but tonight… Well, he supposed he could let loose a little. He didn't shift from his position, but there was a tension that fled from his shoulders, posture becoming more relaxed in a matter of moments, as if all that tension literally flowed from his body, and the arm not held captive by Date wrapped around the younger man's chest in a gentle embrace.

"That's more like it. You see?" Date grinned again, tilting his head up as Kojuurou tilted his own chin down, and caught Masamune's lips in a sweet kiss that tasted of sake.

He tore his gaze away from the moon that was glowing through the bars on the window, eyes closing. It was easier to forget where he was that way. To forget the taunting doubt in the back of his mind every time he saw that remainder of what had once been one of the Dragon of Oshuu's six claws…

No, it was far easier to forget, when he could close his eyes and remember the last obon festival, the last time he'd seen Date Masamune falter... Nothing so simple as a battle could fell the One-Eyed Dragon, even without Kojuurou's strategies. The evenings had begun to turn cold in Oshuu, a chill in the air that forewarned the coming winter. Kojuurou ignored it, though he was grateful for the heavier fabric of the yukatas they'd worn for the festival. Though this was the time of the festival that was always hardest for him to bear. He stood a few steps from the temple, arms crossed before him, back towards the Date clan leader as he set down offerings within the temple, and spoke his prayers, of which Kojuurou only ever caught a word or two. There were two things he never failed to miss. The names of Date Terumune and Date Kojiro.

He didn't move until he heard the scuff of Masamune's geta beside him. "You'll scare everyone away with a face like that," the young leader's voice teased, though Kojuurou was sure he could hear the slight waver in his cocky tone.

Kojuurou realized suddenly that he was scowling fiercely, and the expression faded. "Masamune-sama, are you ready to go down to the festival again?" he said instead of replying.

"Not just yet. Walk with me." Date's hands were buried deep within his sleeves where his arms were folded in front of him. The bright colors of his yukata contrasted the somber expression on his face.

"Masamune-sama," Kojuurou said simply, and followed along as Masamune chose one of the paths that led away from the temple and away from the main area of the town, where the festival was being held.

The silence was distinct and almost oppressive, the distant sounds of laughter and merriment from the festival drifted up the hill to where they walked. The only light came from the moon, which was barely larger than a crescent, making Date into a dark shadowy figure ahead of him on the path. When Masamune stopped abruptly, Kojuurou nearly ran into him, but stopped short by a few centimeters.

"Have you ever regretted something? So much that it hurt?"

It was no great mystery to determine what Date spoke of. The death of his father and brother, at his own orders. Kojuurou sensed that in this case, it was not an answer that Date wanted. He was almost relieved when Masamune spoke again. The death of Terumune was a tragedy in the Date history as a whole, but Kojuurou knew how deeply it had hurt Masamune personally. He'd been nearly mad with revenge, mercilessly killing those that had attempted to blackmail him, those that had been ultimately responsible for the death of his father.

From where he stood, nearly beside Masamune, the moonlight shone off his face, glinting from moisture on his cheek where a trail led down his cheek, where his mouth was thinned to a line. He turned slightly, so his one eye peered up at Kojuurou's face.

"I'm cold, Kojuurou."

Kojuurou reached out, taking Date's hand in his own. His fingers were cold to the touch, and he turned so that Kojuurou could reach his other hand, and pull him close. Date's hands slipped between the opening in his yukata, causing Kojuurou's breath to catch at the sudden icy touch against his warm body, but he pulled Date in close. They stood there for a while, until Date's shoulders stopped shaking. Kojuurou had never asked if that was from the cold, or something else. When they'd finally descended once more to the town square, where the Bon Odori had begun, nobody noticed that Kojuurou's hand was still wrapped tightly around Masamune's. Neither of them danced, though Kojuurou wasn't sure whether it had been because he'd been afraid to let go, or if it had been Masamune who'd been afraid to do so.

He forced himself to lay his hands flat against his legs, forcing the fist that had formed to relax. Nothing would come of getting angry. No doubt his chance would come, eventually. It would be strange if he was forced to fight his way out of here without Masamune-sama at his back… Or rather, it would be strange to fight without being at Masamune-sama's back.

The battlefield was scattered with bodies, but still he and Masamune-sama fought, like a single unit, anticipating one another's movements as enemies rushed them, blood splattered across their faces and armor. Masamune went down and to the left, Kojuurou to the right, slicing upwards on a soldier trying to rush them, a spatter of blood accompanying his last cry of pain as he collapsed.

"Masamune-sama, we've been separated from the troops," Kojuurou said, eyes scanning the battlefield for their pennants.

"It doesn't matter," Date said, grinning as he cut down another enemy. "All I need is my Right Eye to protect my back, you see?" Their backs bumped, and there was a lull in the battle as another wave was fighting to get to the leader of the Date clan, and Kojuurou could see the glint of the crescent on Masamune's helmet from the corner of his eye. "Awright," the shoulders of the shorter warrior tensed against his back, readying to strike again, "Let's make this a crazy party, Kojuurou!"

When the two of them dashed forward, swords at the ready, there was a moment when their eyes met, Masamune still wearing that damned smirk on his face, and Kojuurou knew he would gladly die for this man. In that moment, he knew why Date Masamune had captivated him so entirely.

It was after the battle when the familiar calm settled over the camp, and Masamune and Kojuurou sat sharing sake a little way from the rest of the troops, looking out over the countryside. As usual, Masamune didn't know the meaning of self control, and had drank too much, which meant to keep up, Kojuurou had a little bit too much himself...

"We did it again, thanks to your strategies, Kojuurou," Date said, raising his sake cup towards the man he complimented.

"You shouldn't give me so much credit, Masamune-sama," Kojuurou said, sipping his own cup. Date chuckled, downing all of his sake in one gulp, and sat up from where he'd been leaning on a bamboo stalk, and leaned in towards Kojuurou.

"When you drink you don't look like such a tight-ass," he said, smirk only widening at the sudden serious expression on Kojuurou's face. "Come on." The smell of sake on his breath was strong. Kojuurou sighed, eyes closing for a moment. He opened them again in surprise when he felt Masamune suddenly pressing into a somewhat awkward kiss, given that he couldn't quite hold himself steady. Kojuurou didn't pull away, instead putting his hand on Date's shoulder to steady him, tilting his head so it wasn't as awkward. Whatever Masamune mumbled into the kiss was unintelligible, but in a moment he was fumbling with Kojuurou's armor as he settled himself on top of Kojuurou's legs.

"Masamune-sama…" Kojuurou said, pulling out of the kiss for a moment, glancing downward. "Perhaps now is not the best time."

"Don't be stupid," Masamune drawled, lips dragging across Kojuurou's cheek, his hot breath tickling his skin. "Armor's in the way," he whined quietly, nipping at Kojuurou's ear.

"Masamune-sama, as I said… Now is not the best time," Kojuurou mumbled, the flush in his face not entirely alcohol now, particularly as Date's hot breath drifted over his ear.

"Katakura Kojuurou," Date mumbled, nearly a whisper, "My Right Eye," another sharp nip, "Kiss me." That was one order he had no problem following.

Date had never known the meaning of restraint… No doubt he was fighting his way across the country to get to Kojuurou now. What he would give for news not given through Takenaka's attempts to sway him to work for Toyotomi.

The moon had shifted so the light no longer hit the blade laying on the floor before him. It was almost a relief… He scowled down at it nonetheless, as if daring it to tell him how its master fared.

The last time these blades had been so long separated from Date Masamune's side was a time of peace, before Toyotomi's bid for his hold in the world Japan was becoming, and certainly before Nobunaga's own rise to power.

"Honestly, Masamune-sama, if I were not here, I wonder if you would manage," Kojuurou scolded, bringing over a heavy haori and draping it over Masamune's shoulders unceremoniously. "Sitting at the open door and with the weather like this." The cold wind had ceased, but the snow was still drifting downward, the bright sun belying the frigid air. Even standing within the room, Kojuurou could see his breath in a mist before him.

"It's not that cold," Masamune countered. Kojuurou just sighed, and buried his hands in his own thick haori. When Masamune set his mind to something, there was often little Kojuurou could do to change it, so he would just have to suffer through the cold Oshuu winter afternoon in silence. He settled to sit in his usual place, just behind Date, and glanced towards the leader of Oshuu just in time to see his shoulders shudder in a shiver.

"Masamune-sama," Kojuurou said again, somewhat more sternly. "You'll make yourself sick, come inside…"

"Che," Date scoffed, but got up, and strode back into the room, sitting sulkily against the table, but didn't say anything when Kojuurou shifted far enough over to pull the sliding door closed against the cold. "I can take care of myself, got it?"

Kojuurou let his head droop somewhat as he mumbled under his breath, "Sometimes I wonder about that."

"Eh? What was that?"

"Shall I send for some hot sake? It will help warm you up," Kojuurou said, standing to go sit at the side of the table beside Date.

"Shit! I'm not that cold," Masamune snapped, but Kojuurou reached out, catching Date's hand in his own. Masamune cringed from the sudden heat of Kojuurou's hand. Rather than reply, he just turned away, sulking.

"It would be no trouble to have some hot sake sent in," Kojuurou murmured, releasing the cold fingers, and sitting back again, eyeing Date's face levelly. "The last thing Oshuu needs is a bedridden leader. Things are stirring up, I have a feeling we'll not have peace for much longer."

"Che, so uncool party," Masamune muttered, but shrugged one shoulder. "Go ahead if that's what you want."

"Masamune-sama, please don't be like this," Kojuurou said, scowling at him. "It isn't dignified…" He hadn't sulked like this since he was a child, and Kojuurou had never had patience for it then, either.

Masamune stared evenly at him again, and as always, it seemed as though he could read Kojuurou's thoughts. "What, you think I'm being childish?" he said, scoffing.

_Yes_. He didn't say it out loud, but he let his face speak for him, and he could tell Masamune saw it, the way he quickly looked away, almost pouting, as much as it was possible for the man to do so. He couldn't help but smile, the way Masamune resembled a much younger self. "I'll go get that sake, Masamune-sama." He stood and left the room to get the sake he'd mentioned, Date still looking stubbornly at the sliding door that he'd been sitting outside of. Even if the sake did not warm Masamune, it would at least ease that crease in his brow. How many times he'd chided the young Date leader for pouting or scowling Kojuurou could not remember, but one more time would make no difference.

When he returned, Date was still leaning back, and his gaze fell upon Kojuurou as he came into the room again. At least he hadn't insisted on sitting outside again…

Kojuurou poured the first cup, and set it on the table in front of Date, who drank it in one gulp. If he drank as he usually did, with the sake warm as it was, he would be intoxicated far too quickly to counter the chill that had settled into his body from the cold outside.

"Masamune-sama, you should slow down," he murmured, but poured more sake when Masamune held his cup out towards his retainer. It was a familiar scene, but for once, Kojuurou was unsure of the cause of the brooding silence his master had fallen into.

Masamune pulled his thick haori around his shoulders, a shudder going through his body that Kojuurou could see all too clearly. That was no good, if he didn't warm up, he'd certainly get sick. Kojuurou pulled his own thick haori off from over his yukata, draping it over Masamune's shoulders despite the halfhearted glower he received for it.

"You will make yourself sick," Kojuurou said simply, sighing silently as he sat down again. His shoulders were broader than Masamune's, so the second haori over the Date clan leader's form was oversized and almost comical.

Kojuurou didn't laugh, nor even smile, simply sitting across from Masamune, hands in loose fists against his thighs. The room was still cold from when Masamune had been sitting with the door open. "We should move further inside," Date said grudgingly, and climbed to his feet, pulling the two haori tight around himself and walking regally from the room, footsteps making little more than a quiet shuffling sound as Kojuurou moved to follow, picking up the sake on his way.

He didn't comment when Masamune led the way to his own bedroom, sitting down—or perhaps lounging would be more accurate, Kojuurou thought with amusement—on his futon. He sat beside the heavy blanket, setting the sake beside himself. Date reached out, taking the entire clay container, rather than just the cup and swallowed it in one long drink, and looked back towards Kojuurou, as if daring him to say something.

It was difficult to bite his tongue when Masamune acted like this, but he closed his eyes for a moment, frowning just slightly. "Are you warmer now, Masamune-sama?"

"Eh," he shrugged, "I'll be fine."

"Your hand?" Kojuurou said, holding out his own accompanied by a parental scowl. Masamune obediently set his hand in Kojuurou's. His fingers were still frigid as ice. He'd never warm up at this rate… Kojuurou slid across the tatami, towards Masamune, who sat up and shot a scowl in his retainer's direction. Kojuurou ignored it, pulling Date against his body. A shudder ran through Masamune's shoulders from the sudden warmth, and Kojuurou sighed silently into his hair. "Really, Masamune-sama…" he said, sounding more exasperated than he was, but he felt Date leaning into him a moment later regardless.

The last thing Kojuurou expected was to feel the obi on his yukata loosen, and Date's face pressing against his skin where he'd pulled the edges of the fabric open. The chill in his face had at least subsided somewhat, Kojuurou noted with satisfaction.

"Kojuurou," Date mumbled against his skin, "does it still hurt?"

Kojuurou glanced down, though all he saw was the mop of scruffy brown hair. "I'm sorry…?" he said quietly, not sure what the Date leader was speaking of.

"Your arm. I hit it pretty hard while we were sparring, so does it still hurt?"

Was that really what all this was about? Kojuurou smiled. "It bruised, but it's nothing worse than I've seen before."

"If it weren't for this damn eye," Masamune growled, but didn't finish his thought, leaning back, and with the front of Kojuurou's yukata in his chilled fingers, pulled the man into a rough kiss.

"Masamune-sa—mmph!"

"I'll kiss it better, you see?" Masamune said when the kiss finally broke.

"I'm not sure that's how it's supposed to work," Kojuurou said, unable to keep from chuckling against Date's lips. "You're still practically frozen."

"So warm me up, Kojuurou," Date said, and grinned. He pulled Kojuurou's obi the rest of the way off, letting it slip out of his fingers and onto the tatami.

"Masamune-sama, don't you think we should move to the futon?" Kojuurou said as Date's lips latched onto his skin.

"Nah," he muttered against Kojuurou's chest, pulling the yukata open further.

"We really shouldn't do this on the tatami…" he murmured, and pulled his yukata closed again, out of Masamune's loose grip. Masamune glanced down at the floor, and frowned, but let go of Kojuurou's yukata and slid across the tatami, to the futon spread across the floor, smirking at his retainer.

"Better, Kojuurou?"

"Masamune-sama, you're intoxicated," Kojuurou protested feebly. It was no use, he knew already. Date got rather… persistent when he drank.

"Get over here," Masamune ordered, his smirk widening.

Kojuurou knew he wouldn't let up and so he slid over to the futon himself across the tatami. He wasn't entirely expecting to suddenly be yanked forward onto the futon, and his arms shot out to stop himself from falling on top of Date, and he found himself staring down into Masamune's face, his scowl met with a grin. Masamune was still pulling on the front of his yukata. He gave in, his arms beginning to ache with the effort of holding himself up. For such a lanky build, he was surprisingly strong.

Masamune had shrugged off the heavy haori at some point while Kojuurou had been distracted by keeping from crushing him. Kojuurou wasn't terribly inclined to resist the kiss that he'd been pulled into, but he pulled the smaller haori back around Date's shoulders when Masamune's hands finally relinquished their hold on his yukata.

"So, Katakura, are you going to keep me from catching cold, or what?" Masamune taunted, smirking up at his retainer, disheveled hair falling about his face, a slight flush rising in his face, and not from the cold.

"Masamune-sama…" he mumbled, scolding glance aimed in the other's direction. But he rolled, pulling Date atop him, the chilled fingers landing on his chest. Masamune sat atop Kojuurou, the haori safely pulled over his shoulders despite the suddenness of the shift in their position.

"Don't make a scornful face like that when you're already like this," Date mumbled through his smirk, fingers drifting lower, to Kojuurou's crotch, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

What kind of a reaction had he expected, if not this, the way he'd been acting? He didn't justify it with a response, even when Date slid forward, straddling his hips. The candle guttered as if it was one with him as Kojuurou gasped, unable to tear his attention away from Masamune's piercing gaze. There was no trace of shame or pain in Masamune's expression even as he began to move, fingers digging into Kojuurou's chest. Kojuurou sat up, breath letting out in soft moans now, and the hands slid up from his chest, around his shoulders. Rather than his chest, Date's fingers closed around the back of Kojuurou's yukata instead as he tilted his chin up to kiss Masamune again, this time not as gently, their breath hot against one another's faces.

The haori fell off of Date's shoulders again when he slumped against Kojuurou finally, his heart pounding even through the heavy winter yukata against Kojuurou's chest.

"Masamune-sama," he murmured, fingers absently combing through the scruffy strands of dark hair. "Are you warm now?"

"Just as I asked, Kojuurou," he said, sitting back and grinning. "I know you've always got my back, you see?"

Kojuurou scowled as he saw the glint of something besides moonlight on the blade sitting before him, and reached up to his face, surprised to feel dampness. He took a deep breath, and wiped the blade with his sleeve, and turned away from it, facing the wall instead. There would be no use in brooding. He would get out of here, and get back to Masamune-sama. It was only a matter of time… Waiting for his chance. The troops would have to move out eventually…

And then he could get back to Masamune. He would never leave his back exposed again…

Fin.


End file.
